My bony hip digs into the hard concrete floor, and my skirt soaks in sticky alcohol. I don’t even want to think about what else could exist down here. I sit up and lose sight of Rose. Has she risen to her feet? But that’s unlikely considering she could barely stand on her heels.

My heart thuds. “Rose!” I call. The bodies cage me in, and I suddenly fear being stepped on and squashed like a little bug. But more than that, I fear the same thing happening to my inebriated sister. Before I make a move, two pairs of hands slide underneath my armpits and lift me right off the ground like I weigh as much as a bag of apples.

It has to be a guy.

A guy is touching me.

Abort. Abort. My mind has flashing signs, picturing some flirtation on his part as soon as I turn around. He helped me up, after all. I’m sure he’ll expect the damsel in distress to kiss him for his chivalry.

I contemplate running off, but he spins me around and places his hands on my cheeks. I jerk away on impulse.

“Lil.”

“Lo.” I take a breath of relief and willingly slide into his arms, my heart practically beating out of my chest. When my thoughts realign, I pull away quickly. “Where’s Rose?”

As soon as I say the words, confetti bursts from cannons, blocking my vision and coating the floor in slick paper. I take a step and slip again, Lo reaches out and catches me before I fall to the floor.

His arms are tucked behind my back, and the music pumps and streamers fly. I feel like it’s midnight on New Year’s Eve. He stares deep into my eyes, and he says, “Did you drink anything?”

I shake my head. I wouldn’t. Because then I wouldn’t be able to do this. I lean forward and kiss him on the lips. He pulls me into his body and lifts my back completely straight, swept up in the way our tongues dance together. But I retract first.

Even though I love Lo, even though I’d like nothing more than to kiss him—my sisters are lost somewhere. And I need to find them.

Lo sees the panic in my eyes again, and he gives me a look like I won’t let anything happen to them. I believe him. Now, more than ever, I believe that he’s here for me.

He grabs my hand and leads me through the congested area that’s teaming with bodies. “They’re really drunk,” I tell Lo over the music.

His cheekbones sharpen.

“What?” My pulse speeds. “What is it?”

He tugs me in front of him, his hands on my shoulders as we move, and he lowers his head so that his lips brush my ear. “They were drinking absinthe.”

What?! I don’t think the server mentioned what was in the glowing bottles. Rose would never be crazy enough to drink absinthe, something that’s too crazy for America.

On Halloween, Lo’s eighteenth birthday, we took a plane to Amsterdam just to buy a bottle. He claimed he wanted to get drunk with a green fairy, thinking he’d hallucinate. He ended up passing out within the hour, leaving me to watch over him in our hotel room.

I go into sister-mode and walk faster, my eyes open and alert for any signs of my effervescent blonde sister and my fashionable brunette one.

We find Rose first.

By a high table littered with empty cups and bottles, Connor holds her tight around the waist while she presses two firm hands on his shoulders, unsteady in her heels. He whispers in her ear, probably trying to convince her to take them off.

But a tiger would birth a baby lama sooner than Rose would be barefoot in a dirty club.

We approach them, and I hold onto Lo like a kid clutching the wall in a skating rink. “Is she okay?” I ask.

“I’m just fine, thank you,” Rose says. “But we need to contact the staff and have this mess cleaned up. The floor is filthy.” She motions to the floor that’s covered in sticky liquor and now little strips of confetti. Her nose crinkles at the table nearest her. The staff already starts sweeping streamers so that people don’t slip. “Ah, right on time.” She sways with a loopy smile, and then she stumbles without even taking a step. Connor rights her back up.

Lo can’t stop grinning.

“What’s so funny?” I ask.

“For once, that’s not me.”

I can’t help but smile too.

“Don’t…patronize me, Loren!” Rose points her finger at him. “I’m calling my lawyers. Have you arrested for…” She hiccups. “…public indecency.”

“I’m pretty decent right now, actually,” Lo says, still smirking.

“How about we call it an early night?” Connor asks, his hands firmly on her hips. She doesn’t even seem to care. In fact, she leans back into him. This is probably the closest they’ve ever been, and yet it looks so natural.

“Yes, we have to tuck you into bed,” she tells him.

“No, darling, I’ll be tucking you into bed.”

She lets out a puff of air. “I’m perfectly fine. Look.” She holds out one hand and it shakes like she’s on crack. “Steady as rock.”

Connor looks to us. “I’m taking her to the car.”

“Connor Cobalt,” Rose says with a cluck of her tongue. “Is that a made up name?”

He sweeps his arm underneath her back and then, in one motion, lifts her effortlessly into his arms.

She plants her hand onto his chest, her eyes going wide. “Whoa. We need to tell the manager to slow down the carousel.”

His lips rise as she swings her legs and inspects the style of his buttons. I watch him carry her through the exit, just to make sure she’s safely out.

When she leaves, I spin around again, scanning all the girls, but none are blonde or tall enough to be my youngest sister. “Where’s Daisy?” I ask Lo. The last time I remember seeing her was before the superheroes took to the stage and hypnotized me.

He searches the club with a narrowed gaze. “I don’t see her.”

I spot Ryke by the bar, discussing something with Melissa.

And this one time, I do wish Melissa wasn’t here to distract Ryke from Daisy. Because he would have kept an eye on my sister during that confetti madness and the rush of people pushing to the stage. But instead, he was busy placating his somewhat-girlfriend. Just like we told him to.

This is our fault.

I am frantic with horrible feelings. I push my way ahead to Ryke, and Lo braces me with a hand on my waist so I don’t slip again.

“Hey,” Ryke says, turning to us when we arrive. His eyes flit around us really quickly. “Where’s Daisy?”

“We were going to ask if you saw her,” I say, more frightened now. He didn’t even go looking for Daisy as soon as he came down from the balcony. That would be a Ryke thing to do. Did we really scare him off that much? I bite my nails. We made a person who is so deeply caring become uncaring. How is that possible?! I am freaking out. Just a little. “I thought that you would know where she was.” My high-pitched voice causes his face to break.

And then he turns his attention to Lo. “You said you were going to get Daisy.”

Lo rubs the back of his head. “Lil fell on the ground. Everything was crazy…”

“Fuck,” Ryke curses, the word harsh on his lips. His muscles tighten.

Lo keeps rubbing his neck in anxiety.

“It’s okay,” I tell Lo before he’s assaulted by guilt. “No one is to blame.” We’ll find her. Hopefully.

He nods.

And before we can go search for Daisy, Melissa chimes in, her expression sour. “She’s probably running around here somewhere. I’m sure you and Lo can find her yourselves.”

No, we need Ryke. Lo will be worried about me falling on my ass so much that his attention will be split. I need someone who’s focused solely on finding her. And I’m too short to see much of anything in the crowd.

“Come on,” Melissa says, tugging Ryke towards the stage to dance.

He scowls darkly. “If you’re not going to help, you can go to the car.”

Melissa drops her hands. “Are you serious?”

“I’m not leaving a sixteen-year-old drunk girl in a fucking club!” he shouts at her like she’s not listening.

“They can take care of her! She’s not your sister or your responsibility, Ryke!”

“You don’t know me,” he sneers. “You don’t fucking get it.”

She steps into his face. “I didn’t come here to babysit!”

“Then leave!”

“Fuck you,” she snarls. Then she storms off, pushing through the mass of people with ease.

My heart is about to spring from my chest with every second we lose. “Let’s go.”

“Wait.” Ryke looks between Lo and me. “If I help, this is it. You two can’t be hounding me about her anymore. You can’t have it both fucking ways. I’m either ignoring her or I’m her friend. That’s it.”

“You’re her friend!” I exclaim, practically throwing my hands up in the air. I don’t want to waste any more time. “Okay, let’s go, please!”

Ryke doesn’t move. His eyes pin to Lo, waiting for his answer. I am tossing daggers into his eyes. I don’t have time for this. Daisy may not have time for this. I picture her drunk in the bathroom being gang raped by other people high on the green (or in this case blue) fairy. I shouldn’t have lost her. I should have kept her tethered to my arm.

“Lo!” I yell.

“Fine,” he says. “Fine.”

Ryke revives like someone struck him with a hot torch. He moves faster than I could have ever imagined. He slams bodies out of his way, on a mission from hell. Thank you, thank you, thank you, I chant each time he makes a new path for us.

“Don’t let go of my hand!” Lo shouts over the music, his fingers intertwined in mine.

We wind through the people, following Ryke to the bathrooms where a long line swerves. He walks towards the men’s bathroom and ignores the angry stares as he passes the line.

“Hey!” a guy shouts. “I’ve been waiting for fifteen minutes!”

Ryke glares. “I’m not pissing; I’m looking for someone.” He reaches the door, and the guy grabs him by the arm. Ryke literally throws his body weight at him, just to push him off. The guy topples backwards, giving Ryke enough time to open the door and disappear inside.

“I’m going to look in the girl’s bathroom,” I tell Lo, leaving him in the hallway. The girls stare with hot anger, their lips upturning snidely. My explanation blows over just about as easily as Ryke’s, but no one physically assaults me.

When I make it inside, the line extends here, the girls crammed in a row, waiting for an open stall. “Daisy!” I shout, checking each face. No, no, no. I peek beneath the stalls, searching for her gold sandals.

Red heels.

Black flats.

Sparkly platforms.

No, no, no.

I run back outside at the same time that Ryke exits the bathroom—without Daisy on his arm. He doesn’t hesitate or stop. He guides us to a long narrow hallway that appears reserved for staff.

“We should check outside,” Lo tells him. “She may have found the exit.”

“I want to be sure she’s not here,” Ryke says.

A door ends the hallway. And it’s literally marked employees only. Lo grabs Ryke’s arm before he rushes inside.

“We’re going to be thrown out of the club, and then we’re never going to find her.”

I pale.

And they both look down at me. I realize I squeaked, a petrified sound escaping.

“You two stay out here then,” Ryke says. “I’ll go in. If someone throws me out, then you run down the fucking hallway and disappear in the crowd.”

“Fine.” But I hear Lo mutter, “I’m going to have to bail my brother out of Mexican jail.”

Ryke turns the knob, and he peeks inside a little. His chest rises in a strong inhale, and he motions for us to come inside with him.

We trust Ryke enough to listen, heading through the doorway. And then we stop.

The door clicks shut behind us.

We must be in some sort of break room. Red couches fill the large space, a television and pinball machine on one side. Graffiti—or really nauseating neon-colored artwork—is sprayed on the walls.

The room is empty except for one blonde girl who has her feet on the couch cushions. She bounces a little and slaps the graffiti image of a window on the wall.

I’m just really, really glad no one is in this room. And that all of her clothes are on.

Ryke nears my sister. “Daisy,” he says slowly.

She glances over her shoulder and smiles weakly. “Hi, Ryke.” She points to the painted window. “Did you know this window doesn’t work?” She tries to grab at the picture. “It won’t open.”

“How are you feeling?” he asks.